


Wouldn't It Be Nice

by broadwayblainey



Category: Glee
Genre: Klaine Valentine's Challenge 2018, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:15:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadwayblainey/pseuds/broadwayblainey
Summary: This kind of got away from me and I’m not entirely pleased with it but I think it’s as good as it will getKlaine Valentines Day 4 - Wouldn’t It Be NiceThis is a direct follow on from a fic a wrote for Klaine Advent called We'll Meet Beyond The Shore, but can be read on its own.





	Wouldn't It Be Nice

They were stopped on their walk home from the beach by a crowd blocking the street. After elbowing their way to the front with as much manner as they could muster, they saw a bride and groom descending the stairs of a Catholic church. The bride was beautiful, her dress was lace upon lace upon lace, the train was carried by four little bridesmaids and light brown waves framed her pretty brown eyes. The groom, tall and handsome with olive skin and a stubbly chin, grabbed her hand.  
Kurt glanced at Blaine, who was enthralled with the scene in front of him. He looked down at Blaine's hand, inches away from his own, and fought the urge to link their fingers together. Instead, he fisted them in the pockets of his shorts and returned Blaine's grin when he caught Kurt looking at him. Blaine leaned in to whisper in his ear.  
"Do you want to get married?" Blaine's eyes were twinkling and Kurt rolled his.  
"To who?" he teased, smirking at Blaine's shocked expression.  
"To me!" he hissed, elbowing Kurt when he laughed.  
"We can't do that."  
"Why not?"  
"I could give you fifty reasons why not; the law of the land being, I don't know, twelve and -"  
"Our parents being the rest," Blaine finished, smiling at Kurt to try and hide the pang of sadness. Kurt smiled back and turned back to the wedding.  
The groom was being kissed on the cheeks over and over by a short older lady who appeared to be his new mother-in-law; she had the same thick hair and deep eyes as the bride, only greyer and with a few more lines on her skin. She was pinching the groom's cheeks as he laughed and stroked her arms.  
Kurt had only ever seen pictures of Blaine's parents. The Andersons were a fine looking family, on the surface, at least, all American and beautiful. Damien and Pam Anderson were practically the JFK and Jackie of Ohio, a handsome, successful real estate tycoon and the enchanting mother of his two boys; Cooper, charming and gorgeous, his equally gorgeous wife ready to give birth any second, and Blaine, sweet and smart as they come, sure to break the heart of any moon-eyed would-be-bride that could look his way.  
A fairytale, of course. Pam and Damien were barely clinging to an unhappy marriage, living in different states most nights. Cooper may be as charming as he seemed, and his wife just as pregnant, but his mistress also sported a bump. And Blaine would break many hearts, just not for the reason people might think.  
Kurt wanted, despite it all, to know them. To belong with them and with his own family in the way he did when he was alone with Blaine. But that was another fairytale, of course.  
"You doing okay, gorgeous?" Kurt hadn't realized that Blaine was watching him.  
His boyfriend looked particularly striking; he tanned the same way Kurt burned, so their day at the beach had left him sunkissed and lovely, his hair rebelling against the product in it and curling around his neck. Kurt reached up and smoothed it down.  
"I would kill to marry you," he whispered, suddenly a little emotional, he would later blame it on the heat. Blaine smiled in that very Blaine way, the way that told Kurt he understood him completely.  
They both liked to believe that it would happen one day. That one day Burt would walk Kurt down the aisle. That Kurt could pick out a nice suit and they could write sappy vows that would make the other cry. That the world would stop thinking that one type of love was superior and that anything else is perverse, a burden that should be shamed or hidden. Sometimes, on days when lying to his father or watching other people get to love so openly made him so heartbreakingly envious he felt that he could cry, Kurt wished he could wake up then, that he could wake up and make Blaine his husband and come out of hiding.  
Of course, he couldn't. He didn't really want to, Kurt knew that. He wouldn't wish away his days with Blaine. So, they would wait. They could do that, they were good at that. They would wait until they were old and gray if they had to.  
It would be so worth it, in the end.  
Their attention was pulled back to the wedding when the remaining crowd cheered and laughed - some even wolf-whistled - as the groom dipped his bride and kissed her on the lips. She gripped his arms tight and laughed as he kissed her cheeks, before standing up again, her new husbands arm around her waist. Leaning into his embrace, she covered her blushing face with her flowers.  
Everyone was in awe of them, Kurt noticed, as they watched. The family were all smiles and teary eyes and hugs and kisses and love. Strangers called their congratulations. Even day drinkers in the bars down the street stopped to watch.  
They could do that, out in the open, and nobody would bat an eye, people even celebrated it.  
Kurt suddenly couldn't stand it anymore.  
"Do you want to go?" he asked Blaine, who was just as dumbstruck by the celebration as everyone else seemed to be, as Kurt had been just moments before.  
"You sure you're okay?" Blaine started walking past the swarm of Catholics and towards home.  
_No_ , he thought. _Why is what we have not worth as much as what they have?_  
"I'm fine," he lied, putting his fists in his pockets again and avoiding Blaine's gaze. "I just feel as if I might throw myself off our balcony if I have to watch anyone else be sickeningly in love today."  
"I would hardly call that three foot by one foot patch of concrete we smoke on a balcony," Blaine chuckled. "I also thought that we might have a few more good years of romance before the bitterness sets in," he nudged Kurt with his elbow again, trying to pull a smile out of him. When he saw the corners of Kurt's mouth curve up he continued. "You know, more bringing you breakfast in our bed and dragging you into the library so we can fool around in front of Oscar Wilde's works -"  
"It's what he would have wanted."  
"Before we start sleeping in separate beds and eating dinner in silence and you -"  
"Turn into your father?" Kurt finished, raising an eyebrow at Blaine who nodded, a wicked smile on his face. "You're ridiculous."  
"Don't you want that?" Blaine asked as he looked around them, he couldn't see the crowd anymore and the streets were empty, most people either watching the sunset at the beach or already home for dinner. Feeling brave, he reached out and pulled one of Kurt's hands out of his pocket, grasping it tightly, turning Kurt and pulling him closer, his other hand gripping his waist.  
"Blaine," Kurt warned, whipping his head around to look too, before turning his attention back to his boyfriend, his very close boyfriend who was leaning up on his toes and only inches from his face.  
"No one's here," he murmured calmly, despite the butterflies in his stomach. He rubbed circles on the back of Kurt's hand with his thumb. "Don't you want that?" he asked again, lips against his cheek.  
"Want what?" Kurt asked, seemingly too distracted by Blaine's hand in his, and Blaine's mouth now grazing his neck, to remember their conversation. "Oh," he said, catching up, sighing deeply when Blaine rested his head on his shoulder, his nose pressed against his neck. "I guess we can be - What was it?"  
"Sickeningly in love, I believe."  
"I guess we can be that for a while longer."


End file.
